The AdDressing Of Cats
by Solitary Shadow
Summary: The stationmaster attempts to address a cat. Which, in this case, happens to be our railway tom. Old piece, and very odd.


**Disclaimer:** Bahhh... Nothing here's mine. Apologies to Mr T. S. Eliot, though. You'll find out why.

**Author's Note:** This one's old. And it's really random. I can't exactly describe it.

Based on a real experience. It was a really funny one, to be honest. BTW, I saw CATS again on Boxing Day. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Alright, enough of my random rants. Please enjoy!

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"Here he comes..." The stationmaster murmured as he spotted the famillar orange speck. "I just hope this guy knew what he was talking about..."

He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly as Skimbleshanks, the railway station's prized, handsome tom, came up to him and stared with his bright, glass-green eyes. The stationmaster looked around quickly to check that no one else was around, and he looked down at the tom again (who was still staring, and meowed as if he was questioning the man).

"O, Cat!" The stationmaster said quietly, but it was grand nonetheless. He took off his hat and bowed low to the orange tabby in front of him.

No response.

He looked up to see the cat still staring at him, but this time it looked rather confused and surprised. Thinking maybe he hadn't got it clear enough, he cleared his throat and tried again, louder this time.

"O, Cat!" Another bow, and another salute.

No response.

The stationmaster felt quite uneasy now. It was eleven twenty-nine, only ten minutes to go before the Midnight Mail had to depart. He had so far got nowhere at all with trying to 'ad-dress' Skimbleshanks. Hurriedly, he flipped though the thin book he had been holding behind his back.

"Now what to do... Skimble's close to all of us... So I can say... Oopsa Cat? No, that's not it..."

The orange tom looked distinctively freaked out now, and was slowly backing away, towards the Midnight Mail.

"No, wait! Don't go!" The man cried, and the tom stopped dead in his tracks, still looking rather suspiciously at him.

"Um... would you like a dish of cream? You like that, don't you?" He pulled out a dish with cream in it from nowhere, and set it in front of Skimbleshanks. The tom walked forward and sniffed it cautiously. Then his tongue came out, and he started to lick the cream contentedly.

"Glad to see we're getting somewhere." The stationmaster muttered, and hunched down, stroking the tom's back gently. Slowly, Skimbleshanks's back began to arch at the rhythmic stroking, the tom purring softly. The stationmaster chuckled quietly at that, and looked fondly at the orange tabby that had been a brilliant guide and friend for so long.

Skimble finished off the cream shortly, and started to groom himself, taking little notice of the man in front of him. The stationmaster, deciding that it was a good time to try to 'ad-dress' the cat again, began to speak loud and clear;

"O, Cat!"

Skimble immediately tensed; he stopped grooming himself and backed away more rapidly, looking somewhat afraid of the man. It seemed that the 'ad-ressing' wasn't working at all.

"Wait! I'm sorry!" The stationmaster cried as Skimble took off like the light. "The train can't leave without you! Please, come back!"

He was faintly aware that people were staring at him strangely, but he couldn't focus on that. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, the clock read eleven thirty-eight. There was practically no hope of getting the tom back in time.

"Skimble? Where's Skimble?" He could hear his daughters calling. "Has he gone to hunt the thimble, daddy?"

"It looks like the train has to leave without him after all..." He sighed and stood up again, stuffing the thin book into his pocket. "Damn that T. S. Eliot."

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"Jenny!" The orange queen looked out to see her mate running towards her, unaware that he was knocking over random couples as he did so. "Oh, Jenny! You'll never believe what I just went through!"

"Slow down, Skimble!" Jennyanydots took his shivering form into the hut, away from the gaze of the Jellicles. "What happened? Why are you here early?"

"I went to the station as usual, and the stationmaster started to talk to me in this weird way; he was acting like I was some kind of royalty or something! The dish of cream he gave me was nice, but then he was all-" He buried his face in his paws. "Heaviside, I've never been more scared in my life!"

"Shh. It's alright now." Jenny soothed the distraught tom, stroking his back. "What was he saying?"

"Something like... 'O Cat' or something.." Skimble mumbled into his paws. Jenny looked surprised for a while...

... And she burst out laughing.

"Skimble, Skimble..." She nipped his ear fondly. "He was probably just trying to ad-dress you. You know what Old Deuteronomy always tells us after every Jellicle Ball. I'm not exactly sure how the humans got that information, but I'm pretty sure he meant no harm."

"You do?" The tom's ears perked up - or as much as they could, because he was a Scottish Fold - and he looked more hopeful.

"Of course, darling." Jenny glanced at the time. "The train would have left already... so it seems like you have a day off."

"Mmmmm." He nuzzled into his mate's arms, smiling now. "It's been a while since we'd done some loving, hasn't it?" He pulled her tail teasingly, leading her towards their bedroom, hinting about how he wanted to spend the time he'd unexpectedly earned.

"Skimbleshanks!" Jenny protested, giggling, but she let him pick her up and carry her to their bedroom, and she let the door close behind them, shutting out the world.

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O.o

What in Heaviside happened here? I don't know. This piece is VERY old, written way back at the time where I had a lot less sense then I do now. I see I still had a rather Skimble/Jenny fluff-esque side then. Heheh.


End file.
